


In the Predawn

by Providentia67



Series: Mayura [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Bonding, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mother-Son Relationship, Protective Nathalie Sancoeur, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-27 17:15:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20951996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Providentia67/pseuds/Providentia67
Summary: Nathalie has a secret.  Sometimes she takes up the mantle of Mayura and likes to look out over the Seine at night, just to get away.  Sometimes, she likes to acknowledge the fear and the doubt that creep on her every waking moment.  Sometimes, she wonders if it is all worth it.Sometimes, Chat Noir is there too.In that brief time between the end of night and the beginning of dawn there are no allegiances.  Lonely, sad, and growing tired of a seemingly fruitless struggle, Mayura and Chat Noir meet each other on a bridge and let themselves acknowledge the fact that they share more in common than they care to realize.





	In the Predawn

The Parisian night is crisp and the wind cold. With summer’s end nigh, autumn has the city tight in its grip, leaving the exposed length of the bridge cresting the Seine empty. A perfect perch for a lone peacock. 

Mayura sighs as a brush of cool air filters through the vanes of her fan. She is grateful for the thick plumage of her coat for its protection against the cold and wonders if the advantage is hers alone. Night has long since given way to the early hours of the morning and if she lingers too long the sun will begin to peek over the horizon. 

Maybe it was too much to hope for a rendezvous this night. After what happened on the Arc de Triomphe, perhaps she shouldn’t be surprised. The soft _ snikt _of her fan sliding shut hides the shaking of her hands. Gabriel would be awake soon, and she has been gone too long already. Mayura turns, resolved and stepping towards the east bank of the bridge, when the patter of soft feet draws her still.

“Hey.”

She is unprepared for how surprised she is by his arrival. Even more so by the fact that she is unspeakably pleased and relieved. She snaps open her fan to hide her smile. Only then, does she turn.

“Chat Noir.”

He is very much not smiling. The boy is still perched on the railing of the bridge, glaring steadfast at the churning black waters rushing beneath their feet. Something has upset him, and Mayura is unsure of the cause. So much has happened in recent days that strike at the child’s weak spots.

She says, “I wasn’t sure you would come tonight.”

Green cat eyes snap to her and hold. Even with the domino mask hiding much of his face he is still so expressive. The boy screams pain with every fiber of his being. Eyes most of all.

The feline slit to his pupils are blown round and wide with trepidation as he says, “Nowhere else to be, really. What’s your excuse?”

He doesn’t want her to pry too hard? No matter. The privilege of age is, she knows how to be patient. 

She takes a careful step forward, just to the center of the bridge. Reclaiming her steps, but not advancing any closer to the skittish superhero. He will come to her if he wants. “I felt I owed it to you,” she says. Her fan inches upwards, hiding her expression from the eyes down. “After our last meeting.”

It is the wrong thing to say. Instead of encouraging the cat closer he shoots to his feet, still balanced on the bridge railing, with claws bared. His upper lip curls in a snarl. “You mean your Sentimonster Ladybug?”

Mayura’s free hand curls into a fist where it is pressed against her chest. “I- yes. It was cruel and targeted.” There is a part of her that feels she is betraying Hawk Moth as she says it, but she must. “I’m sorry.”

Chat Noir’s expression of rage dissolves, but he looks away. “You know what she means to me and you used it.” His shoulders fall into a heavy slump. “Guess I shouldn’t be surprised. It was smart.”

He turns his back to her, and Mayura steps forward until they are shoulder to shoulder looking over the darkened Seine. From behind the barrier of her fan she glances down at the teenager beside her. “Don’t be ashamed of your feelings,” she says, her eyes going back to the water. “Love can be a weakness, but it also gives purpose. Does it not?”

She can feel eyes on her, but she keeps her focus firm on the river. They lapse into silence for some time, neither looking at one another and thoughts tangled. She keeps seeing the look on the boy’s face when she compelled her sentimonster to confess a love she knew he yearned for. The way that burgeoning hope died when Ladybug crushed it with just a few words. Mayura knew the nature of her powers could be as cruel as they were beautiful. She was faced with that fact every day.

But she’d never intended to use that cruelty with such precision. Not against _ him _at least.

A weight settles against her arm, and with a small gasp she realizes Chat Noir has let himself lean against her. Head cradled in the fabric of her coat just beneath her shoulder. She can feel his teeth chattering and his arms are tucked and crossed against his chest. It strikes her that he must be cold.

Hesitant, she lifts her arm and guides the cat to settle instead against her side so she can drape her limb across his shoulders instead. When he goes willingly, she starts rubbing her palm up and down his upper arm. Something in her chest eases when she hears Chat Noir give a pleased sigh. 

“M’not ashamed,” he mutters against her side, so quiet she almost misses it. Mayura stills for an instant, then smiles and continues her ministrations.

“Good.”

Standing like that, keeping a child warm from the cold and a mop of gold hair just at the edges of her peripheral vision, she entertains the selfish delusion that it is Adrien beneath her arm, and not this cat. She lets herself imagine what it would be like if he would let her offer him even this much comfort.

That thought too, feels like a betrayal. To Chat, to Adrien, to Gabriel, even to Emilie. But such is the nature of selfishness.

“You’re good at this.”

She starts. “Hm?”

Chat Noir frees one of his hands to make a vague gesture to their combined person and then quickly tucks it away. “The whole, warming me up, thing.” He shifts under her arm and makes himself presumably more comfortable. Mayura thinks she can feel his eyes slide shut as he lets out a slow, deep exhale. “My mother used to hold me just like this, when I was cold.” 

If the cat hears her sharp inhale, he ignores it.

“U-used to?” She’s not sure if she wants to know more about Ladybug’s loyal defender. Or find more reasons to think of Adrien every time she sees him. But the words are set loose before her fear has time to rein them in.

“Mhmm,” Chat Noir hums in lieu of a proper response. “She’s gone now.”

Without her knowledge, Mayura’s hand stops rubbing the boy’s arm to produce heat and is instead curling her fingers around his shoulder in a move that is equal parts protective and a warning. He shouldn’t be telling her any of this.

“Do you have children?”

She doesn’t even try to stifle her grimace. She doubts Chat would be able to see from his position anyway. “I thought we weren’t going to ask each other these kinds of questions.” As much as the idea of cutting their meeting short does not appeal, she will if he persists.

The tension breaks with Chat Noir’s small chuckle. “It’s okay,” he says. “You don’t have to answer. I’m pretty used to that kind of silent treatment from M’Lady.”

Mayura glances back down at the boy in her arms with one eyebrow arched and severe. Either the cat is far more cunning and manipulative than she has given him credit for, or life has been far too cruel to the both of them. Maybe the truth is somewhere in between. 

Despite her better judgement, she answers him. “No. I don’t have children.”

“Mm.” 

She’s grateful that he doesn’t say anything else on the matter. On the other hand though, the resulting silence is heavy and it feels like Chat Noir has left the ball solidly in her court.

“Was… Ladybug upset with you? After, that is.” She defaults to the only thing she can think of and instantly regrets it when she feels the cat tense.

For a moment he moves as if to pull away and Mayura fights to hold him in place. The thought crosses her mind that it could result in them coming to blows, but instead Chat Noir settles without much struggle.

“Not angry really. Disappointed, but not surprised.” Chat Noir angles his head down. It is a posture of shame and weary heartbreak that Nathalie has become very familiar with. He goes on, “She’s made it clear she knows I can sometimes think more with my heart rather than my head.”

The ‘and disapproves’ reads loud and clear even without Chat giving voice to the thought. 

“I _ was _laying it on a bit thick,” says Mayura, aiming for levity.

To her relief, Chat Noir actually laughs. “Yeah. It was a bit too good to be true. Should have figured something was up.” 

“Because she loves someone else.”

This time, when Chat pulls away he does not let himself be held back. He breaks free of her arm and turns so he is facing her, bracing himself against the bridge’s railing. His arms are crossed and his expression is frustrated. 

“I shouldn’t have said that,” he says, more to himself than Mayura she suspects.

Mayura nods. “Probably not.”

The pucker to the boy’s lips is more pout than the unimpressed mien he is likely aiming for. Mayura does her best not to let her amusement show. The silence that settles in the wake of her assessment is warm, and eventually, Chat asks,

“Am I an idiot?”

“Well, you are standing on a bridge with one of your sworn enemies chatting the night away.”

Chat snickers, but swiftly pushes the mirth away. “I’m being serious, Mayura.”

“Yes, I know. Forgive me.”

Chat Noir’s hands fall to his sides, bracing. “I mean, am I stupid to keep loving her?”

She wonders, taking a moment to gather her thoughts as she maneuvers the fan in front of her face, if Chat has any idea how close his turmoil hits home in her own heart. 

“If I said yes, would that change anything?”

Chat shrugs and gives a sad little laugh that turns itself into a sigh. “No. I just,” his right hand moves to grip the fabric above his heart and the boy’s face twists in an overflow of agony. “It hurts so much but I can’t make it stop.” He looks up to meet Mayura’s violet gaze, expression blindly beseeching. “How do I make it stop?”

It is a despairing torment Mayura knows too well. “I don’t think you can,” she tells him. Ignoring the vibrating tension in every line of the teenager’s body, she steps forward to put a hand on his shoulder. “And it might be foolish to offer your heart to someone who has already given their own away, but it takes strength too.”

“You- you know how it feels too, don’t you?” 

Mayura allows her chin to dip in the affirmative. 

If he suspects the truth -to be honest it wouldn’t be too much of a leap to guess she is speaking of Hawk Moth- he doesn’t let it show. Just nods, silent and solemn. 

“Funny, the thing is,” he says. “Even though it hurts I can’t regret loving her. Even though I know she’ll never pick me.” His attention is drawn to the east where the navy sky has just begun to lighten in herald of the dawn. “All that matters is that she’s happy.” 

Just as well Chat is not looking, he misses the outrage that flits across Mayura’s face. She does not know who Ladybug loves so deeply that she can ignore the devotion of her partner, but she is certain that whoever it is cannot hope to measure up to the man Chat Noir will one day become.

A swell of pride she does not know the origin of wells up in her at the thought of the way she has witnessed his care, his faith, his loyalty. Ready to lay everything at her feet to see the girl succeed. Paris may hail Ladybug as saviour, but she knows from the up-close perspective of their enemy that without Chat Noir she would be nothing. 

Without either of them realizing it his love for her has become their greatest strength, regardless of it being unrequited. 

But… she knows that pain.

That’s how she knows his love is also a mortal weakness.

She finds herself saying, “Just remember, you are deserving of happiness too.”

The words settle in the air between them. Mayura suspects they are both trying hard to believe it is true for either of them.

Chat speaks first, “It’s almost daybreak. I should go.” The Seine is beginning to resemble more a deep blue than inky black, and Mayura knows that Chat is right. They are both quickly running out of time.

“Agreed.” She drops her hand from his shoulder and turns away, snapping her fan closed with a soft _ snikt. _She hears him brush himself off and hop up onto the railing. There is a soft whooshing sound that means he’s probably twirling his staff in preparation to vault himself away.

“Oh, and Chat.” The whooshing stops.

“Hm?”

She does not look back. “Be careful. Hawk Moth knows how both of you feel now.” Despite whatever camaraderie it is that draws her and Chat Noir to meet at these odd hours of the night and take a strange comfort in each other’s presence, her loyalty is first and foremost to the man she loves. “He knows your heart is a vulnerable target.”

There is a sigh, but to Mayura’s surprise, it doesn’t sound distraught, or even angry. Just, resigned. “Yeah, I figured. Kind of hard to miss when he threw me off the Arc just to get to Ladybug. Thanks though, Mayura.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“Ha! Right.” She expects him to leave then, but instead as she starts to walk away again it is him who calls her back. “Oh, and just so you know, if you didn’t want to answer you could have just said so. You didn’t have to lie.”

“Lie?” She looks over her shoulder, eyes narrowed in confusion. Chat has a cheeky grin on his face. 

“When you said you didn’t have kids.”

“But I don’t-” Chat arches an eyebrow and gives her a disbelieving look. Mayura chuckles to herself. Somehow the boy knows more about her than she does herself. “Alright, fine. I do have one.”

Finally, Chat Noir breaks out into a full smile. “And they’re lucky to have you. You know, despite the whole supervillain thing.” His baton strikes the ground and in the next instant the cat is flying through the dawn sky. A black spot dancing over rooftops.

Mayura steps off the bridge and lets her transformation recede. Tucking the borrowed miraculous away, Nathalie can walk the morning streets of Paris without garnering much, if any, attention. As she does, she silently nurtures the traitorous hope that Chat Noir will be able to weather the storm that will soon descend upon him.

Hawk Moth will take notice of his pain soon, if he hasn’t already. And he will make the boy suffer for it. Ladybug might have sacrificed her chance at unmasking Mayura to save her partner, but she knows Hawk Moth didn’t miss the defeat in Chat Noir’s face the instant he’d called upon his Cataclysm to protect his ring and started his countdown. The instantaneous, fleeting glimmer of annoyance that crossed the girl’s face as she matched Hawk Moth hostage for hostage.

She will make the perfect dagger to carve out the boy’s heart.

The sight of the Agreste mansion quiets Nathalie’s thoughts as she steps through its gates to the entrance. Adrien’s bodyguard is there waiting, and greets her with a nod. She returns the gesture, stepping up to the first landing of the grand staircase and hesitating a moment to look up at the Agreste family portrait. The miraculous tucked against her chest feels like a lead weight as her eyes drift from Gabriel, to his son, to Emilie.

Nathalie wonders if she will ever not feel like an intruder upon the woman’s home. A thief and a usurper. She turns left, intending to check on Gabriel, and hesitates. She decides in that moment, that if this is the part she has been given to play, she might as well embrace it. Nathalie goes right instead.

Her feet carry her to the sole occupied bedroom in the right wing of the mansion, and when there is no response to her knocks she lets herself in. Adrien’s room is that precarious balance of controlled chaos she has come to expect from teenagers, and she makes a mental note to remind him to tidy up later in the morning. Then she sees him, hair rumpled and expression drawn to that of imperfect rest. Her heart aches that the boy cannot seem to find peace even in his sleep.

Giving up the fight with her instincts, Nathalie perches herself on the edge of his bed and, tentatively, sets her hand in the tangle of his messy blond hair. He twitches, but does not wake, and she slowly starts to run her fingers across his scalp.

Bit by bit, she watches as her ministrations begin to take effect, and the tension eases from Adrien’s face. Several minutes later, and he finally looks like he is truly at rest.

“Thank you for looking after him, Nathalie.”

She almost jumps at the sudden voice that pierces the silence of the night. Her glasses fall crooked and she corrects them with the hand not currently buried in blond hair. She looks over to the bedroom door to see Gabriel leaning against the doorframe. He holds a finger to his lips when Nathalie opens her mouth to speak.

“Shh, don’t wake him. He looks like he needs a few more hours of sleep.”

That he does, and Nathalie nods. Careful not to disturb the boy, Nathalie extricates herself and quietly makes her way from the room, Gabriel on her heels. 

“Sorry sir,” she says as the door shuts behind them with a click. “I just wanted to check on him.”

Gabriel shakes his head. “No need to apologize, Emilie used to do the same. For a long time, she’d get up in the middle of the night just to make sure he was still there.” He says the words with a soft smile on his face and a look of quiet amusement. “Like waking up made her think Adrien was nothing but a dream.”

Pushing her doubts to the side, Nathalie takes Gabriel’s hand in hers. “He’s a wonderful young man. You should be proud.”

Gabriel holds her back and allows himself a smile. “I am. That’s why I will do whatever it takes to give him the life he deserves.”

A monumental task. One that will take the power of the ladybug and black cat miraculous to fulfill. It is a quest that will drag both their souls through the mud to pry the powers of creation and destruction from the hands of children just trying to help the world in that naive way only children can. Nathalie knows all too well that it could get someone killed.

She thinks of the first time she’d stumbled across Chat Noir, staring solemnly across the darkened Seine, alone and too tired to start a fight. That first time they’d put their animosity aside and realized they shared more in common than either of them realized. And somehow, during those meetings to follow she’d come to enjoy the company of yet another blond haired boy.

She doesn’t want him dead or destroyed.

Nathalie straightens her spine and looks Gabriel in the eyes. “And I’ll help you.”

She doesn’t harbor Chat Noir any ill will, not anymore. But that boy in the room before her needs his mother. His _ real _ mother. Needs the power of the combined miraculous if things are ever to be made right again in the Agreste household. And Nathalie will do whatever she has to, to see that dream fulfilled.


End file.
